When Luck Runs Out
by masterctarl
Summary: Chapter 4 is up. Not long after the events of Apollo Justice, our heroes gather to discuss what happens to them next. But something goes horribly out of plan. Warning: Violence
1. A Toast

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**Ch. 1**

**A Toast**

Disclaimer: I do not own Apollo Justice/Phoenix Wright/Gyakuten Saiban or any other title it may hold. That is all owned by CAPCOM. I do own Morty Sour, though, so if you ever want to use him, please ask first. Or at least give me credit. It's all I ask. Thank you!

"You should have seen Ol' Sour's face when I went to take the bar exam again," Phoenix Wright laughed as he sat with Trucy Wright, Apollo Justice, and Klavier Gavin in Las Mananas, the new Spanish restaurant downtown. "You'd think he saw a ghost! Then he just burst out, 'You again?!'"

Morty Sour was the man who supervised the bar exam. No one was quite sure how old he was, the Judge even remembering seeing Sour when he first took the bench. The old man's face was always scrunched up as if he was sucking on a lemon, and he constantly smelled of lemon disinfectant. He had a nasty disposition and hated everyone. No matter who he saw, there was always something about them he didn't like. Phoenix's hair was too spiky, Apollo blinked too much, even Mia Fey, Phoenix's old mentor, couldn't escape Sour's criticism. Her skirt was too short, her blouse was too low-cut, and, above all, she was a woman. Being a crotchety, bad tempered old man didn't seem to be enough, he had to be sexist too.

"I remember when I took the bar exam, he made me so nervous I couldn't concentrate," Apollo said, stabbing a fajita with his fork.

"I feel so left out. I've never met Mr. Sour," Trucy pouted, sipping on her soda.

"Consider yourself lucky, Fraulein," Klavier replied, winking. "I had the pleasure of meeting him a few times with Kristoph. My brother seemed to be the only person Sour liked. Not that he didn't get a, 'Your hair is too long' every time we saw the old man. Other than that, though, Sour didn't seem too opposed to Kristoph's existence. Now that I know how my brother really is, I'm starting to wonder about everything – everyone – he was connected to." He stared at the water in front of him. He didn't get anything to eat, saying he'd eaten beforehand, but joined them anyway.

"Yeah, sorry your brother turned out to be a bad guy…" Trucy said.

"Trucy!" Apollo groaned. "That's not how you make someone feel better!"

Klavier laughed. "It is okay, Fraulein," he reassured her. "I'm touched by your concern. I'm just glad I learned the truth."

"See?" Trucy stuck out her tongue at Apollo. "He's _touched_!"

"Geez, you're like an annoying little sister," Apollo huffed. Phoenix smiled knowingly. He knew that Trucy really _was_ Apollo's sister, even though neither of them knew it yet.

"I wish I had your luck, Herr Forehead," Klavier smiled. "Both in and outside of the courtroom."

"Yeah, he does have some pretty dumb luck," Trucy teased. "Oh, speaking of successes, Uncle Valant agreed to help me master the Gramarye technique. We'll perform together next week at the Great Return of the Gramaryes in Sunshine Stadium!"

"Your father would be proud of you," Phoenix grinned, ruffling her hair. He then raised his glass. "A toast! To magic!"

Trucy cut in, "To second chances!"

"To truth!" Apollo added.

"To dumb luck!" Klavier finished.

"Hey!" Apollo laughed. The others joined in.

And a shot was fired. Apollo stopped laughing as he fell back in his chair. Trucy screamed. A red spot formed on Apollo's chest. And the restaurant erupted into chaos.


	2. Waiting

Disclaimer: I do not own Apollo Justice/Gyakuten Saiban/Phoenix Wright/Ace Attorney or any other names or affiliations with it. They are owned by CAPCOM. Please don't sue me.

Note: "Ja" is German for "Yes". I don't recall if he ever said "ja" in the games, but I didn't think that Klavier used enough German in them so I ended up adding this one word.

Ch. 2:  
Waiting

Waiting was never something Trucy Wright could do easily. She loved to jump out into the world and do whatever needed to be done as quickly as possible. This made it easier for her to move onto the next thing that needed to be done. If she could have her way, Trucy would probably finish everything that needed to be done in the world in a day.

But this was different.

Trucy couldn't do anything to move waiting in the hospital along. She sat there staring at her hands, lip quivering, for once in her life completely miserable. She'd begged the doctors to do everything they could for Apollo, even though they were already doing their best.

Most of Trucy's efforts were put to forcing that moment out of her head. The moment the shot rang out in the restaurant and Apollo fell back, blood starting to soak into his shirt.

Trucy remembered screaming. A lot of people did, honestly, but she believed she screamed the loudest. The entire world moved in slow motion for the few seconds it took for Apollo to hit the floor, and Trucy had a front-row seat to it.

FLASHBACK

As soon as Trucy saw Apollo hit the floor, she and several other people screamed. It was the only thing she could do. She wasn't sure what her adoptive father or Klavier were doing, but after a moment she herself jumped out of her chair. "Polly!" she cried, getting on her knees and grabbing Apollo's shoulders. His eyes were wide and he seemed to be staring at something in the ceiling in shock and panic. "Polly, snap out of it!" Trucy yelled again, shaking his shoulders. But he didn't react, he didn't move.

Blood came out of the bullet hole in his chest and onto her dress as she shook him. But she didn't care, she didn't even notice. All she knew was that she wanted Apollo to stop acting like she wasn't there. She wanted him to do something, anything.

Trucy jumped, startled as someone put their hands on her shoulders. "Miss!" the woman demanded, pulling Trucy away. "You have to stop! I'm a doctor!"

It took a moment for Trucy to register this. As soon as she did she grabbed the woman by the front of her shirt. "Please! You have to help him!" she pleaded.

"I'll do my best," the woman nodded. She bent down next to Apollo and placed two fingers on his jugular. After a moment she made a slight sound of relief. "He's alive. I can't help him here, though." The woman stood up and looked at the other patrons. "Has anyone called 911?" she asked the crowd.

"I did! They're on their way!" a man nearby answered.

"Good!" the doctor knelt back down next to Apollo again. She checked his eyes and his breathing. "He's gone into shock. We need to stop the bleeding." The woman took off her dress coat and folded it quickly, applying pressure to Apollo's chest, enough to slow the bleeding but not too much so he could still breathe.

"Is he going to be okay?" Trucy asked, whimpering. She felt so useless.

"I don't know," the doctor said truthfully. "I know he won't be if the ambulance doesn't get here soon." As if on cue, the sounds of sirens filled the restaurant.

END FLASHBACK

And so, here Trucy was. She knew that the doctors were doing everything they could, but it just didn't seem like enough to her. She dug her face into her hands and started crying again.

Phoenix, who was sitting next to her, wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, praying to God that something would save the young attorney. Apollo was too young to be this close to heaven's door. He was also an important part of Phoenix's life now. A part of the family the former defense attorney found was ever growing for him.

What frustrated Phoenix the most was that he _had_ him. The man who shot Apollo was right there, and, in Phoenix's mind, he let him get away.

FLASHBACK

What alerted Phoenix first was the sound of the gunshot. In his experience he knew that the panic was coming, the screaming and running. As everyone was registering what had happened, he was already looking for the gunman. When everyone started screaming and panicking, the gunman became much easier to spot. One man in a hooded sweatshirt was calmly making his way to the door.

Phoenix was out of his chair like a bullet, weaving around people to try and reach the shooter before he could get away. All he had to do was reach the man before he got to the door.

The shooter turned and saw Phoenix, though, and picked up the pace. He started shoving people out of the way and into Phoenix's way. "Stop!" Phoenix yelled, breaking into a run as well. He managed to get close enough that he grabbed the hood of the sweatshirt and yanked it down. The young man underneath, with shaggy brown hair, ducked out of the reach of another grab and dashed out the door.

Phoenix pursued, running out into the crowded street. But with all of the commotion in the restaurant, with people running out and screaming, it had drawn a large crowd. Sirens blared in the near distance, indicating the arrival of the authorities and, most likely, an ambulance. There was no sign of the young man as people shoved past Phoenix trying to get out. No one but him seemed to have realized the gunman was already gone.

The former attorney made a frustrated sound and shoved past the people running out of the restaurant, making his way back in. He headed back to their table, and that was when he saw it. He had been in such a rush to catch the gunman he hadn't stopped to see who he'd shot.

But now he knew. A woman was applying pressure to Apollo's chest while Trucy hovered over her, trying not to cry. "Apollo!" Phoenix finally found his voice after a moment, running over. He could see Apollo's chest rising and falling in short, labored breaths.

"Daddy!" Trucy cried out, running over. Phoenix took her into his arms and hugged her tight. As soon as she buried her face into his chest she started crying. "Daddy, Polly's going to be okay! Please tell me Polly's going to be okay!"

Phoenix looked down at Apollo, but then looked away. "Yeah," he said softly, petting her hair. "He'll be okay…"

"You're such a liar!" Trucy cut him off, pounding a fist against his chest. "Stop lying to me!" She continued to sob.

Phoenix swallowed and smiled a bit. Even in a situation like this, Trucy was still Trucy. "I'm sorry…" he muttered to her.

He looked around for the fourth member of their party. "What do you expect me to do?!" Phoenix looked toward the outburst. Klavier was on his cellphone, pacing back and forth a few feet away. He looked at Phoenix for a moment, stopping mid-sentence on the phone, but then looked away again. The doctors ran in at that moment with the gurney.

END FLASHBACK

Phoenix sighed and stood up. Trucy didn't react. "Hey," Phoenix said gently, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm going to get a drink. Do you want anything?" Trucy didn't look up. She instead simply shook her head miserably. Phoenix forced a smile and patted her on the head. "Don't worry. Everything will be okay." He then headed down to the vending machines.

The truth was that Phoenix wasn't really thirsty; he just couldn't stand to just sit and wait there anymore. He knew that Trucy was okay by herself. She was a stronger girl than most people gave her credit for.

As he headed down the hall, he saw Klavier walking toward him quickly, once again on his cell. Phoenix stopped and waited for the prosecutor. Klavier stopped in front of Phoenix and held up a hand to indicate that he was listening to something on the other end of the phone. "Ja," he confirmed. "Yes, good. Thank you, Fraulein Detective. We shall see you in a bit." He hung up and took a deep breath.

"Always a little harder when it's someone you know, isn't it?" Phoenix said.

Klavier looked a bit startled. He then smirked. "I knew you were a capable defense attorney, Herr Wright," he replied, pocketing his cellphone. "I didn't know you were a mind reader as well."

"It doesn't take a psychic to tell that you're worried about Apollo. You wouldn't be human if you weren't," Phoenix smiled back. He then went down to business. "I'm assuming that was Ema?"

"Ja," Klavier nodded. "She said that they have caught the shooter. In fact, he turned himself in."

Phoenix raised an eyebrow. "He did?" he asked in slight disbelief. He didn't like this. Every case he ever worked where someone 'turned themselves in' always became very complicated very quickly.

Klavier nodded again. "He was a homeless kid, said he was turning himself in because the prospect of living somewhere other than the streets, even prison, was extremely tempting," Klavier explained. Phoenix sensed a 'but' coming. "However…" Close enough. "It didn't take too much of her vast genius for Fraulein Detective to deduce that he was hired.

Phoenix sighed, wishing that he could get mixed up in a case that wasn't overly complicated. "Let me guess," he muttered. "He refuses to give up the name of the person who hired him for fear of his life."

"You got it," Klavier confirmed. He then pushed a lock of golden hair away from the ear he had his cellphone on a minute ago and rubbed it. There seemed to be a slight redness in the shape of the cellphone around his ear.

"How long were you on that thing?" Phoenix inquired.

"I think this may be the first time I've put it down since…" Klavier trailed off and stopped rubbing. He'd been so busy keeping in contact with the police, pushing this investigation along harder than he'd ever pushed before, that he hadn't had a chance to stop and think about what had happened before.

FLASHBACK

It was Trucy's scream that had snapped Klavier out of the slight shock he felt when he saw the bullet penetrate Apollo's chest. As soon as he had snapped out of it, he jumped out of his chair, hand flying to his cellphone. He grabbed a man nearby who was staring at the spectacle in shock, one of the few people who weren't screaming and running for the door. "You! Call the ambulance!" he ordered. The man stared at him for a moment, before nodding and pulling out his own phone.

Klavier had already dialed Detective Ema Skye. As soon as she answered she already sounded overworked. "Fraulein Detective, we have a problem," the young prosecutor said gravely into the phone.

"You're telling me! Three different people have already called into the station to report a shooting at that Mexican restaurant downtown!" Ema replied, exasperated. "How fast can you get to Las Mananas?"

"I'm already there," Klavier informed her.

"What?!" There was a distinct thump followed by several curses on the other end. Klavier knew that she had fallen back in her chair. It happened several times before when he revealed information she felt he should have told her sooner. "How did you get there already?! We just started getting the calls!"

"I was eating here with Herr Wright, Herr Forehead, and Fraulein Trucy. We…" Klavier hesitated for a moment. Should he tell her over the phone who the victim was? He found himself unable to anyway. He settled with, "We witnessed the crime. Get down here as quickly as possible. Our witnesses are on the run."

"Well, try and stop them!" Ema snapped, frustrated.

"What do you expect me to do?!" Klavier snapped back.

There was a silence on the other line. Klavier was usually so calm and collected, hearing him lose his temper made Ema suspicious. "Prosecutor Gavin, what's going on?" she asked slowly.

Klavier took a deep breath and started to reply. "It's the victim. The person who was shot, it was…" he trailed off as he looked over at Phoenix, who had just returned. He was hugging Trucy and petting her hair. The former attorney was looking back at Klavier. Klavier opened his mouth to say something, anything, to the two of them. But he then closed it again, looking away. What could he possibly say to them?

"Klavier? The victim?" Ema now sounded worried. "Who was it?"

"Just…get down here…" Klavier finally said, snapping the phone shut.

END FLASHBACK

Klavier had only had brief breaks from the phone ever since, running around barking orders and trying to get the investigation together. It was all that was keeping his mind off of what had happened. But now that he wasn't on the phone, it seemed to hit him full force. Apollo Justice, his rival and friend, had been _shot_.

"Come on," Phoenix said calmly, nodding his head back toward where Trucy still sat.

"J-ja…" Klavier said a little shakily as he followed Phoenix back to the waiting area outside of the operating room. As soon as he saw Trucy, though, he gathered himself back up again. He had a job to do, no matter who had been shot. "Fraulein," he said gently, sitting next to her.

Trucy still didn't look up. "Prosecutor Gavin…" she simply greeted.

"This is going to sound strange, but I'm going to need your clothes," Klavier said.

This caused Trucy to look at him in surprise. "Why?" she asked.

"Evidence," Phoenix answered for Klavier. "You're covered in…" he stopped, unsure how to say 'You're covered in Apollo's blood' in a way that wouldn't freak her out.

But she understood anyway, looking down at herself. "Oh, right," Trucy stood up and held her arms out in front of her.

"I'll run home and grab another outfit for you," Phoenix offered.

"Thanks, daddy," Trucy nodded, sitting back down.

Klavier didn't know what to say to her as Phoenix walked off to get another dress for her to change into. He felt that he should have said something to show her how strong he was being, to help her get through this. Instead the prosecutor stared at the floor. For the first time since he became a prosecuting attorney, Klavier felt…helpless. He hadn't been this close to the victim before. It was overpowering, frightening.

Trucy must have seen all of this, because she put a hand on his shoulder. Klavier looked at her. She was putting on a brave smile for him. "Everything's going to be okay," she said softly.

Klavier stared at her a moment, then started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Trucy huffed. This wasn't the time for laughing in her opinion.

"I-it's just that…" Klavier continued laughing as he said it, "I came over here and wanted to be strong for you and comfort you! Now you're the one comforting me!"

Trucy thought about this for a moment, then started laughing as well. He was right, it was a bit funny. But she stopped laughing after a moment when she noticed something was wrong. Klavier's shoulders were still shaking, but it wasn't from laughter. He was crying.


	3. Revelation

Disclaimer: Er, yeah, you know the drill. I don't own Phoenix Wright/Apollo Justice/blah blah blah. I _do_ own Dr. Carmelita Chiu, so please don't use her unless you ask or at least give me credit. K, thanks.

Ch. 3  
Revelation

As soon as Klavier had regained control of himself he was back on the phone with Ema. He was simply too embarrassed that he'd broken down like that to continue his conversation with Trucy. He also felt lucky that Phoenix hadn't been there to hold witness to his show of weakness.

Phoenix did return, however, to find Trucy looking a little better and Klavier a little gloomier. "What happened here?" he asked his adoptive daughter, handing her a clean dress and gloves.

"Prosecutor Gavin had a bit of a…" Trucy searched for the right word, "…meltdown. But I think he's okay now."

Phoenix nodded. He figured Klavier would probably prefer not to talk about it until he was ready. "How about you? Are you okay?" he asked.

Trucy nodded and smiled. This time it didn't look as forced. "I'm feeling better now," she answered. "Seeing Prosecutor Gavin like that kind of…made me realize that sitting here crying wasn't going to help Polly."

Phoenix smiled. He couldn't' help but be proud as she ran off to the ladies' room to change. 'Zak would be proud of you, too,' he thought, sitting down in the chair next to where she had been.

"Ja," Klavier was approaching, still on the phone, nodding. "Ja. Danke, Fraulein Detective. See you in five." He snapped the phone shut and sat next to Phoenix, sighing.

"Ema coming down?" Phoenix inquired.

"Ja," Klavier replied. "She has some updates for us, and she wants to see how Herr Forehead is doing."

"_We_ don't even know how Apollo is doing," Phoenix pointed out.

"Ja," Klavier grinned. "But Fraulein Detective wouldn't have bothered coming down if she knew that."

Phoenix chuckled. He didn't mind an excuse to see Ema, though. It brought back good memories of the days when he first started out as a defense attorney.

Trucy came back, clean and holding the blood-covered clothes carefully, so the blood wouldn't get on her new dress. Klavier pulled an evidence bag out of his jacket pocket and held it out to her. He was used to investigating crime scenes himself, so he kept some basic items for such occasions on him. Trucy bagged the dress and sat next to Phoenix, stretching and yawning.

"It's getting late," Phoenix pointed out, trying to make conversation.

Trucy looked outside. The sun was long since down. "It's already late," she corrected.

"Alright, what's going on?" Detective Ema Skye burst through the waiting room doors and hurried over. "How's Apollo? Is he okay?"

"Slow down, Ema," Phoenix put a hand up. "We haven't heard yet, we're still waiting."

Ema seemed to want to say something rather rude, but didn't seem to deem Phoenix the subject of her verbal abuse. So she turned on her usual target. "You…you glimmerous fop!" she snapped, smacking Klavier on the shoulder. "You said you had news and you couldn't tell me it unless I was down here!"

"Now, Fraulein Detective, how was I to know that the doctor wouldn't be ready to tell us something before you got here?" Klavier smiled innocently at her.

"Ooooooh…" Ema's cheeks puffed out as she tried not to lose her temper.

"Did you not have news for us concerning the case?" Klavier changed the subject quickly.

"Oh, right!" Ema seemed to forget about her irritation and pulled the case file from under her lab coat. "Here, this is everything we have so far. Crime scene photos, witness interviews, the works. A lot of good it's doing, though…" she sighed, sitting down next to Klavier and pulling out a bag of Snackoos. She munched on them and stared ahead, continuing her report. "As I told you on the phone, we have the kid that shot Apollo, but he's not talking. The interview manuscript is in there too."

Phoenix reached over and pulled the interview manuscript from the file. Klavier didn't mind, he was reading the witness accounts. The former attorney scanned it, looking for any clues at all. "Not much to go on here, that's for sure," he muttered.

"That's what I _said_," Ema huffed, popping another snack in her mouth.

"Wait, Daddy!" Trucy suddenly exclaimed. She turned back a page and re-read a passage. "'Detective: If you can't tell us who ordered you to shoot him, can you at least tell us what he said?'

"'Suspect: He gave me this picture with two guys on it, the dude I shot was one of them. Said he'd give me a hundred to pop the no good lawyer who sent him to jail.'"

"So?" Ema inquired, pulling out the picture. It was cut out of a newspaper. They recognized it as the picture taken to celebrate the success of the jurist system. It showed Apollo standing next to Phoenix, the older with a proud hand on his shoulder. The caption underneath read, 'Passing the torch: Phoenix Wright and Apollo Justice, defense attorney, celebrate Justice's fourth win in the Vira Misham case. Justice's luck seems to greatly resemble the luck of former attorney Wright, who went almost undefeated in the court room.'

"This is the picture he gave us," Ema explained.

"But isn't that strange?" Trucy asked, putting a finger on her chin. They all looked at her expectantly. "I mean, Polly hasn't been an attorney for very long. Everyone who he's put in jail is still in there."

Phoenix thought about it for a second. Ema cut in, "So the person who gave him the gun was probably working for whoever wanted Apollo dead."

It was Phoenix's turn to disagree. "No, remember, the suspect said that the man who hired him specifically said that he was the one who was in jail. And Trucy's right. There simply hasn't been enough time for one of the men he sent to jail to develop a grudge strong enough to plan this all out, let alone for one of them to be let out."

"So, what does this all mean?" Ema asked, looking over his shoulder at the picture.

"It means," Klavier finally understood. "They shot the wrong lawyer."

Ema suddenly looked up, the light of understanding sparkling in her eyes. "The young man shot the only one in the picture who _looked_ like a lawyer," she almost couldn't believe her own words. "His target wasn't someone who became a lawyer recently…"

"…It was someone who was a lawyer long before…" Klavier finished, looking at Phoenix. The older man had a grim look on his face. "Herr Wright, I…"

Phoenix held up a hand. He didn't want to hear it. He knew it already. Apollo's life was in danger, and it wasn't even supposed to be. The former attorney should have been the one laying in there. They didn't even know if Apollo was going to make it, but Phoenix already felt like he'd killed him.

As if on cue the doctor came out. It was the woman from the restaurant, Dr. Carmelita Chiu, a nice Asian woman with brown eyes and a sweet smile. "Mr. Wright?" she inquired, speaking gently.

Phoenix immediately stood up. The others all gathered around him to hear the news. "Is he going to be okay?" he asked the question on everyone's mind.

"Well…" Dr. Chiu began, but hesitated. The four of them all held their breaths. "It's…complicated. You see, Mr. Justice has incredible luck. The bullet just barely missed his heart. But…" Again she hesitated. Their breaths still held. "You see, the bullet seems to have lodged itself between two major arteries of the heart. If we attempt surgery, there's a 93 chance one of them will be damaged and he'll bleed out. But if we leave it there, he won't be able to move much. Even if he wakes up, any sudden movement may cause the bullet to move and tear an artery."

Trucy's breath hitched. "So…so there's nothing you can do…?" she tried not to sob.

"I'm sorry, for now…we can only wait," Dr. Chiu replied.

Phoenix clenched his jaw. This was _not_ a good day.


	4. A Possible Solution

Disclaimer: You know the drill. I don't own any characters or places affiliated with Phoenix Wright. But I do own Dr. Chiu and Chase Avian, so please don't steal them.

Note: I refuse to call their band the Gavinners. It's just…so…stupid. So you will find them listed as Gavin Wave. Mm'kay?  
Note 2: This chapter hints at a possible shonen-ai relationship between Klavier and a Male OC if you squint REAL good. That sentence probably lost half of my readers, lol. If you still want to read it, I appreciate your open-mindedness.

**CB93, Fire Emblem MewMew, **and** chichistar:** Yes, it is very reminiscent of another case, isn't it? (lol) There's a point to that, which actually is covered in this chapter.  
Also for** Fire Emblem MewMew:** I'll try not to up the rating, but I can't make any promises. But I'll make an honest effort of not doing so, I promise!  
Also for** chichistar:** The young man who actually shot off the gun will remain anonymous for now. For the most part, I just don't feel like giving him a name yet, lol. He won't be important again until a later chapter.  
**NinjAngel:** Haha, nice to know my fanfic did some good for you. And if you had expected what happened to Phoenix, I wouldn't be very good at plot twists, huh? X3  
**The blackdash, Pen and Paper71, theatrejunkie, **and** Someone:** Thank you very much for the support. I hope you continue enjoying it!

**Chapter 4  
****A Possible Solution**

Trucy insisted to her adoptive father that she would be fine alone with Apollo at the hospital. Usually, they would have told her that only family were allowed to stay with the patient overnight. But Dr. Chiu took sympathy upon hearing that Trucy and Phoenix were the only family Apollo had in the city.

Klavier and Ema returned to the station. They knew sleep was impossible with this recent news of Apollo's condition, so they both decided overworking was better than nothing. Phoenix had asked Ema to fax him a list of any of his old enemies that had been recently released from prison. She assured him that her workload with the case was already huge, but she'd do so as soon as possible.

The former attorney, though he didn't think he could sleep, decided to head home and try anyway. He knew that when the mastermind behind this found out the wrong target had been shot he'd try again. This meant that Phoenix, Klavier, and Ema had to catch him as soon as possible.

As Phoenix lay down on his bed, Klavier's words kept playing in his head. _'It means he shot the wrong lawyer…' _Phoenix shook his head, trying to force it out. But it haunted him. He should have been the one in a shock-induced coma, struggling for his life, not Apollo.

He then thought of what Klavier and the clipping said about Apollo. Klavier had stated that Apollo had good (if incredibly dumb) luck, ironically moments before he was shot. The newspaper commented that it was the same luck that Phoenix had in his day. Phoenix could only hope it was right. The former attorney seemed to escape death almost regularly. He had swallowed a poison bottle in college, fell off a burning bridge into a raging river, and been recently hit by a car. If his luck rubbed off on Apollo, then God would spare the younger attorney and allow him another chance as well.

0-0-0-0-0

The alarm woke Phoenix up at 8am. He hadn't even remembered falling asleep, though figured it was for the best that he had. He had a big day ahead of him.

He started by calling Ema while heating up some takeout Chinese from a few nights before. After a few rings, a tired voice came through. "This is Detective Skye…" she said, sounding half asleep.

"Morning, Ema," Phoenix replied, leaning against the counter.

"Oh, hey Nick," Ema sounded a little more alert upon hearing his voice. "What's up? You got anything for us?"

Phoenix laughed a bit. "Not yet, I haven't even gone out yet. I just woke up. You know, from that funny thing called sleep. That thing that normal people do at night?"

"Oh, hardy-har-har," Ema replied bitterly. There was a crunching noise as she munched a Snackoo. "I was up all night reviewing all of the witness accounts and the suspect interview for leads. I found a couple of things and sent some detectives to re-interview those witnesses."

"What about that list of old enemies I asked for?" Phoenix asked, opening the microwave and transferring the hot takeout box quickly to the counter before it burned his fingers.

"Oh, shoot!" he heard Ema slap her forehead. "I knew I forgot something! I'm _so_ sorry! I'll do that as soon as Klavier gets back!" He heard the tapping of several keys on her computer. "He's at his office, looking for some notes about your previous cases that his brother had kept. Apparently Kristoph had been studying you. He had a notebook full of these notes about you, and gave them to Klavier when you had to face him."

"Strange…" Phoenix muttered, opening the box and letting it steam out. "Why would he need something like that? I know we were friends, but I don't see him as the idolizing type. We were both defense attorneys as well, so he'd never have to face me in a case…"

"I don't know, but it may prove useful," Ema commented. There was a pause. "Sorry, Nick, I've got to go. One of my detectives is trying to contact me."

"That's okay, I should start out as well," Phoenix replied. "I'll be waiting for that list."

"Yeah, yeah," Ema said in good humor. "Bye." She hung up.

Phoenix smiled and shook his head, hanging up as well. He then downed the Chinese food and headed out.

-0-0-0-0-

"Thank you for calling the home of Mystic Maya Fey," a mature female voice spoke to Phoenix as he tried phoning his former assistant. "She's not in at the moment. Please leave a message, and she will try to get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you."

"Maya, Pearl, it's Phoenix," the former attorney said after the beep. "Something's come up, I'd really appreciate if you called. You know my number." He hung up and sighed. Though he'd kept in touch with the spirit-channeling cousins, Maya and Pearl Fey, they never seemed to be in when he needed them to be. It wasn't as if he'd needed them for anything this urgent before, but they liked to keep each other updated.

At the moment, though, Phoenix didn't have time to think about it. His investigation didn't start where the police's did. He wanted to get in touch with some of his old friends from his attorney days and try to rally some help. And if he could count on anyone for rallying, it was Maya. While he chose to stay in contact with his closer friends, such as his childhood friends Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth and children's author and artist Larry Butz aka Laurice Deauxnim, he would need some help locating some of the more obscure allies he made in his hay-day.

Edgeworth unfortunately was in Europe helping fellow prosecutor Franziska von Karma on a case, and was next to impossible to contact. After Phoenix had been disbarred, the prosecutor seemed to make it his business to keep as little contact as possible. It wasn't that he believed that Phoenix would cheat in a courtroom, he knew from experience how honorable the defense attorney was. However, he couldn't risk his reputation. If people started to discover how often they worked together on cases, they might have brought all of his own trials to question as well.

Larry was almost as hard to get a hold of, currently on the other side of the country at a book signing. His premier book, _Franzy's Whippy-Whippy Adventure_ became an instant hit among children. Phoenix could never figure out why Franziska ever gave him permission to use her likeness in such a way. Despite the wonder of it though, Larry since made four books in the series, including his most recent one, _Franzy, Nightmare Whipper_. It featured "Franzy" wandering through children's dreams and whipping back the monsters that gave them nightmares. It was baffling parents let their children read these books.

Phoenix shook his head. This wasn't the time to be thinking of such things. He had a young defense attorney in a coma and a killer still out there, hell-bent on revenge. But without them who could he turn to? There were only a few of his old clients that he knew the whereabouts of, and it would take time to contact them all.

"Wait. Clients," Phoenix snapped his fingers, an idea popping up in his head. He was so caught up in what was happening he'd forgotten that he wasn't the only one with people on his side. Apollo had clients that would lend help at a moment's notice. "But who could I turn to?" he asked himself, leaning against a streetlight and thinking hard.

The first person to pop into his mind was Thalassa Gramarye, Apollo's mother. Knowing her she'd give her life if need be to protect her children. Though there wasn't much she herself could do, it wouldn't be right to keep such information from her.

So Phoenix dialed and waited. After a few rings the songstress's voice graced his senses. "Hello, this is Lamiroir."

"It's Phoenix, Thalassa," Phoenix smiled. Because of her need to hide her identity, Thalassa still traveled and spoke under the pseudonym 'Lamiroir', her Borginian identity as a singer.

"Oh, good morning. How is everything?"

"Not so good, I'm afraid," Phoenix nervously rubbed the back of his neck. He didn't think it would be this hard to tell her. The pause on the other side of the line told him that she was waiting patiently for an explanation. "It's…Thalassa, something happened. To Apollo."

He could sense her voice wavering, "What happened? Is he okay?"

"No, I'm sorry but he's not. Apollo…" he hesitated. Though he searched, he couldn't find a gentle way to say it. "Apollo was shot."

"What?!" Thalassa gasped. "What…what happened? He's not…"

"No, no he's still hanging on. The doctors said he's stable."

There was a sigh of relief on the other side of the line. "Thank goodness. For a moment there I feared the worst."

"I'm afraid we can't count ourselves lucky yet," Phoenix said darkly. "The bullet's lodged between two arteries. Surgery could rupture one. And leaving it there is, of course, not an option."

"Oh, no," she made a distressed sound. "How…how are you and Trucy doing through this?"

"She's doing better than I am," Phoenix smiled. "She's a stronger person than I am. You should be proud."

"I am," Thalassa's voice still sounded distressed.

Phoenix paused for a moment to let her wrap her head around this news. He then said, "You should come down here. Apollo needs your support. They both do."

"I don't know, I still don't feel it's the right time," their mother hesitated. She wanted to be there, Phoenix knew that. But she still didn't feel she should reveal her true identity to them, yet.

"It's your choice," Phoenix tried to say it gently. "Think about it."

"I will. Take care." He heard a click on the other side and didn't blame her for the slightly rude farewell. She had a lot to think about.

Phoenix himself didn't have a small amount either. There was a bullet in his protégé's heart, an old enemy of his out to get him, and no amount of time to lose. How long could he survive with a bullet so close to his heart?

The former lawyer stopped walking as the thought came to him. "A bullet close to his heart…?" he muttered to himself. He then snapped his fingers. "Wocky!"

()()()()()()

"Welcome to the Kitaki Family Bakery," a large, but pleasant looking, woman was sweeping the front step as Phoenix approached. "May I interest you in-- Oh! Mr. Wright!" She stopped sweeping and smiled sweetly. "What a surprise! What brings you here? Are you trying the sweet bread?"

Phoenix smiled back, shaking his head. "No, but thanks, Little Plum," he replied. Little Plum Kitaki wasn't much different from the last they saw her. Still pleasant and cheerful as ever. "Actually, I was wondering if Wocky was here."

Plum looked a bit taken aback. "Wocky? Oh, yes, he's in the back. Taken quite well to the bakery, despite his whining," she let out a loud, infectious laugh. "Go on through the kitchen. Winfred is back there, tell him I let you through to see our son."

"Thank you, Little Plum," Phoenix nodded as he entered. For being the first legitimate business of a notorious crime family, the Kitaki Family Bakery was quite a pleasant little establishment. A cheerful atmosphere, a few friendly customers already inside, and the scent of fresh bread wafting from the kitchen told him how well they were doing.

Winfred Kitaki stood at the counter, handing an order to a young woman. "Thank you for your patronage," he told her. "I hope to see you again."

"Oh, yes," she giggled. "Tell Wocky I said hi. And I'll see you next week."

Phoenix approached the counter, smiling. "Good morning, Mr. Kitaki," he greeted.

"Ah, Phoenix Wright," the former crime boss shook his hand firmly. "What brings you to our humble bakery?"

"I just needed to ask Wocky about something," Phoenix replied. "Your wife said I could go through the kitchen and meet him out back."

"Yes, yes, go right ahead," Winfred nodded. "He's not in trouble, is he? Are you on a case for young Apollo?"

"Something like that, but he's not in trouble," Phoenix shook his head, walking around the counter to the kitchen. "Thank you." He had suspected from his conversation with Little Plum, but now it was confirmed. The Kitakis hadn't seemed to have heard about the shooting the previous night. He was sure it was probably in the newspaper, so it was odd that they didn't know about it, but there was no need to worry them unduly.

He passed through the kitchen and through a door in the back. Wocky was lounging back in the bed of a delivery truck with the Kitaki Bakery fox's face plastered on the side. His arms were folded behind his head and his eyes were closed, head bobbing up and down, earphones securely stuffed into his ears and music loud enough to wake the dead.

Phoenix walked over to the truck and reached up, tapping Wocky on the shoulder, figuring if he tried saying anything he probably wouldn't hear anyway. "Aaah!" the young man practically jumped out of his skin, yanking the headphones out of his ears. "I was just resting my eyes, promise!" he yelped at Phoenix. After a moment he realized who he was talking to, though. "Oh, it's you."

"Yeah, it's me," Phoenix didn't take offense to the greeting. It was really expected from the former gang kid. "Working hard?" he teased.

Wocky made a face at him, but then grinned. "Don't tell mom and dad, but I like catching Zs back here when they're in the front. Sometimes they seem to just forget I'm here while tending the bakery, so it's real easy to slack off."

"So I see," Phoenix sat on the edge of the truck bed. There were bags of flour and other supplies scattered in the back, most of which was probably supposed to be in the bakery. "How's business here going?" he asked casually. He figured a little pleasant conversation would make the bomb he was about to drop a lot easier.

"Pretty good," Wocky shrugged, uninterested. "Mom and dad like it, anyway. I help out, cause, you know, we're family. But enough about me, dude, how's Apollo doing? I read the newspaper this morning."

Phoenix was surprised. "I didn't think you and your parents knew. They didn't make any indication."

"They don't," Wocky said a bit sheepishly. "I…I've been distracting them best I can when there's no customers. I mean, someone will probably bring it up or something, I mean it's pretty big news. But for now, I think my parents are better off not knowing. You know my mom, she'll freak out and totally rampage on someone."

The former attorney laughed, mostly because he could picture it. "I don't think they'd take it that bad, but I suppose that's up to you."

"Anyway, stop avoiding the question, dude," Wocky waved his hands at Phoenix. "What's up? How's Apollo?"

Phoenix's face turned solemn. "Not too good, I'm afraid. Actually, it's what I'm here to talk to you about," he admitted. "His condition's actually pretty similar to what happened to you."

Wocky's eyes went wide, hand almost reflexively flying to his chest, rubbing the area where he himself had been shot less than a year previous. "It's…it's real close?" he gulped.

Phoenix shook his head. "I'm afraid it's worst. The bullet has lodged itself between two arteries. If he so much as moves it could tear one." Wocky gasped as the gravity of the situation sank in. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, though. I wanted to ask a favor."

"Anything, dude!" the teenager sounded all too eager to help.

"Your family had to make a lot of calls to find someone who could remove your bullet, right?" Phoenix asked. Wocky nodded quickly. "Do you still have the numbers of the doctors you called?"

"Yeah, I think. I mean, they're in my dad's office," Wocky replied. "If I ask for them, dad's gonna be suspicious, though."

Phoenix knew better than to push him to do anything he didn't want to, so worded his next instructions carefully. "All I need you to do is to make some calls. Tell the doctors what I've told you about Apollo's condition and ask if any of them can do it. We need to find someone who can take the bullet out."

Wocky seemed a bit unsure, but still nodded. "Anything you want. Apollo and Trucy, they saved my life, man. I owe them everything."

Phoenix smiled. "You're a good kid, Wocky," he said, pushing himself off of the truck and wiping stray flour from the back of his pants.

"Hey, I'm not a kid!" Wocky huffed. "And if anyone hears you called me a 'good kid', I'll make you regret it!"

"Of course," Phoenix said, trying not to laugh. "Thanks, again, Wocky." He pulled out a card that had the Wright Talent Agency's number and address on it. "Call me if you make any progress, okay?"

Wocky took it and grinned. "Is there any other way I can help you?" he asked eagerly.

It was Phoenix's turn to hesitate. He didn't want to put another young man in unnecessary danger. He finally settled with, "Alright, see if you can listen in on any conversations that sound relevant to the case. If you hear anything, contact me. Can you do that?"

"Of course!" Wocky's grin widened. "You can count on me, Mr. Wright!"

"Wocky Kitaki!" Little Plum's voice boomed from the back door. Both the former attorney and the mob kid jumped at the sound. She was standing there, tapping her foot on the step. "You should have had that truck unloaded by now!"

"I'm on it!" Wocky quickly started back to work.

"I should go anyway. Good luck, Wocky," Phoenix waved as he headed off.

"Thanks, Mr. Wright! I promise I'll get the stuff you asked for!" Wocky replied, picking up a bag of flour. "Good luck on the case!"

0-0-0-0-0-0

"This is Prosecutor Gavin," Klavier answered his cell phone once again. It seemed like there was no end to the ringing. He had Guilty Love, his own best selling song, as his ring tone, but was finding himself sick of it. By the end of the case he may never listen to his own music again.

"I knew it! I finally got it right!" a southern accented woman's voice cheered.

"Who is this?" Klavier knitted his eyebrows together. He didn't recognize the woman's voice on the other end.

"Lotta Hart, _Believe It To See It_ magazine," the woman answered. "I've been trying to get in contact with you to ask a few questions about the case concerning the shooting of Apollo Justice, Defense Attorney."

The German prosecutor made a sound halfway between a sigh and a groan. "Fraulein, I'm afraid you will have to contact public relations. This line is for business only."

"Yes, but-!" Klavier ended the call before she could object further. He wasn't usually so rude to others, especially women, but he was tired, overworked, and still concerned for his friend and rival. The phone started ringing again and Klavier looked at the screen. The woman's number flashed on the screen again. Making another groaning-sighing sound, he pressed End instead of answering. How did she get his number?

He continued into his office, where the place was strewn with books and files. It looked like someone had broken in and gone through it all. The truth was he simply didn't find the time to clean it. He stepped over piles and worked his way to a the file cabinet at the far end. He kept a lot of his own old notes, as well as some of his brother's that were sent to him, in the top drawer. Unfortunately, the file cabinet was also ridiculously tall. There was a reason he only kept things he didn't think he needed anymore in the top.

"Now, how to get to you, mein uncooperative file," Klavier muttered to himself. He looked around the room for ideas. The recliner was out of the question, it seemed too dangerous. Besides, he couldn't move the thing, let alone stand on it's leather cushions. He looked to the side table next to it. "Oh, because this is so much safer…" he sighed. But he couldn't think of a better idea. So he moved the contents to the side and set it in front of the cabinet. "Klavier, this is the dumbest idea you've ever had."

Despite that fact, he still carefully stepped onto the side table and carefully and slowly pulled the drawer out. The table wobbled a bit, but he didn't fall. That is, not until he had the notebook in his hand and was pushing the drawer closed. That was when the table decided it couldn't hold him up anymore and started tipping over. "Wh-whoa!" he felt all sense of stability leave him and braced himself for impact with the floor. The jarring force didn't happen, though. Someone had caught him.

"Not your smartest idea, hmm, Klay?" Klavier knew that voice, especially that nickname, anywhere. Chase Avian, his former band's drummer, was smiling down at him. He was the only person who called him Klay. "It figures, the band's been disbanded for less than three months and you already almost kill yourself without us."

Klavier rolled his eyes and pushed the detective away. "I am not a child, Chase," he huffed. The drummer had been the last to join Gavin Wave before Daryan was convicted of murdering Romein LeTouse. He was a tall brunette man on the police force who seemed to find his attraction to aviation charming. Klavier failed several times, but not for lack of trying, at explaining to him that aviator hats and jackets weren't what people looked for when they thought 'hottie'.

"Says the boy who couldn't reach a simple drawer," Chase grinned. He reached up and easily slid the drawer the rest of the way in. He was a good half a foot taller than Klavier, and refused to call the prosecutor a 'man', no matter how old he got, always settling on 'boy' instead. Klavier once again rolled his eyes, sighing. "And you're still acting like a petulant teenager as well. What were you doing up there, anyway? You could have cracked your skull open."

"For your information I am working on the shooting at the Mexican restaurant downtown," Klavier answered, working his way back around piles and out of the office. He didn't bother to move the table back.

"Oh yeah, I heard about that," Chase followed quickly. "In fact, I heard you were there at the time of the shooting." He looked at Klavier expectantly.

"And…?" Klavier decided immaturity was the best policy with the wannabe-aviator.

"And that one of the people in the group you were with was the defense attorney who was shot," Chase persisted.

"And?"

"And, well, are you okay?"

Klavier stopped walking. "Are you…worried about me?" he asked.

"Well, of course," Chase huffed. "I mean, after everything that's been happening to you. You know, Daryan turned out to be not just a jerk but a murdering, lying jerk. And your brother, well…"

Klavier glared at him. He didn't like where this conversation was going. So he quickly started walking again without a word.

"Ah, Klay! Don't be like that!" Chase went after him. "I didn't mean any harm by it! I'm just making sure you're okay!"

"Well, I'm fine!" Klavier huffed, entering the elevator.

"Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, you know, make you feel worst," Chase apologized, stepping in with him.

"I said I'm fine, now stop pestering me." At that moment his phone went off again as the elevator doors slid shut. He groaned, not having the patience for the reporter who's number flashed across the screen again. "You stop pestering me as well!" Klavier snapped at the screen, about to hit End again. Before he could, however, the phone was snatched out of his hand. "Hey, what're you-?!"

Chase held up a hand for silence and pressed the button to pick it up. "Yello?" he greeted. Klavier couldn't believe this was happening. It wasn't even noon yet and the day still kept getting worst.

"Hello? Who is this?" the familiar voice of Ms. Hart came through the phone.

"Ma'am, are you aware it's an offense to harass someone, even over the phone?" Chase asked.

"Who is this?" Lotta repeated, sounding agitated.

"This is Detective Chase Avian. As an officer of the law, I'm required give you a warning. If you persist in harassing Prosecutor Gavin I will be forced to take legal action." There was no response on the other end past a startled and offended sound and a click. "Just call me Chase Avian, pest control," the detective grinned, handing the phone back.

Klavier stared at him astonished for a moment. He hadn't even thought of doing such a thing to the reporter. He finally lowered his eyes, taking the phone. "D…danke…" he muttered. After a moment of silence his breath started coming out in short, shaky hitches. This case was just started and it was already taking a heavy toll on him, both emotionally and physically. At that thought alone his legs gave away, leaning back against the elevator wall. The notebook he'd retrieved fell from his hands to the elevator floor.

"Klay?" Chase reached out and gently grasped the prosecutor's shoulders.

"Sorry…I am fine…I am…" Klavier repeated, though it didn't sound like he was saying it to Chase, more to himself as he held back his sobs. "I am fine…"

"It's okay," the detective said gently. "You don't have to be fine. So just stop trying to be, okay?"

Klavier looked up at him. He looked pitiful, tears running down his cheeks, absolutely miserable. But still, Chase couldn't help but chuckle a bit. The sound didn't make his younger companion feel any better, though. "What is so funny?" he asked bitterly.

"Nothing, it's just…isn't this how we met?" Chase smiled.

Klavier looked around. They stood in an elevator, him in tears, Chase trying to comfort him. If they were in a hotel in England, then yes. This actually would have been exactly how they met. The memory of it finally let Klavier let it go. He had let Chase comfort him when they were complete strangers. Why not now? "I am not fine…" he finally moaned, leaning into the former drummer. "Everything's gone to hell and I am not fine…"

"I know, but you will be…" Chase said gently, hugging the rock star. The elevator dinged and the doors opened, but he quickly pushed the button to close the doors again as they opened. They weren't done with their elevator therapy session, the people waiting for it could take the other elevator. He pushed the button for the top floor. It would give them plenty of time for Klavier to finally get it all out.


End file.
